Alterations
by seekingtomorrow
Summary: Are you willing to abandon your humanity to save the thousands who will only curse your name? Can you truly become a monster for the sake of the ones you care about? Because once you've been chosen to carry the burden of your people, there is no other alternative. AU where, under very different circumstances, Levi saves Mikasa from the traffickers. Shifter!Mikasa.
1. Prologue

**Alterations**

**SUMMARY: **Sometimes, a chain of events can be altered by what is seemingly the most minute detail. In this case, a very different boy stumbles upon a certain cabin deep within the woods. AU where Levi saves Mikasa from the traffickers.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **My NaNoWriMo project. Initially, I wasn't going to post this just yet, but I figured I should get it out here while it's still in production just to see how people react to it. This _will _be a multi-chap and it _will _span into Mikasa's years as part of the Scouting Legion. It will heavily deviate from canon. Think of this as a prologue.

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own SnK.

* * *

It all started with a crest carved into the palm of a young girl's hand, a red scarf, and a smile. Later, when all is said and done, it ends with cobblestone roads so deeply sodden with blood that every step is mushy. It ends with broken bodies hanging from trees, and the unexpected death of an unexpected player. The grand finale is bittersweet, tinged with the sadness of loss.

But for now, it begins.

* * *

Mikasa should have known when the men knocked on her door that fateful afternoon that something wasn't quite right. Bounding off her chair and ignoring the heavy sighing of her mother—who was probably irritated with Mikasa's lack of progress regarding her sewing—she unlatched the heavy bar on the door and swung it open.

A man, clean shaven and handsome stood outside. When he saw her, he cocked his head. "Is your mother around?" Mikasa felt an odd pit gather at the bottom of her stomach, roiling like the calm before a storm.

Her father put his hand on her shoulder. "Go to your mother," he whispered into her ear, his voice uncharacteristically stern and almost…frightened? Mikasa immediately complied, her feet padding against the silken wood of her home. When she reached her mother, the woman threw an arm around her shoulder, trying to usher the child into the next room.

"What's wrong?" Mikasa whispered, sensing the irregularities of her parent's behaviour. She slipped her hand into her mothers, feeling the faded scar of their clan mark on the woman's palm. "Is everything okay?"

"Stay here," her mother pointed her to the closet in their shared room. "Do not come out until I tell you to."

There was a crashing noise from the kitchen. Mikasa saw her mother's shoulder hitch. "Mama?" She asked, hoping for her mother to turn around and promise her that everything would be alright. "Mama, what's going on?" She tried to edge toward the door, but her mother's body concealed the open crack.

"Promise me, Mikasa." Her mother grasped her by the hand. "Do not come out until I tell you it is safe."

"I promise," Mikasa said. She wasn't quite sure why, but tears had begun to flow from her eyes. They streamed from her face, hot and stinging like when you touch something before it properly cools down and although it doesn't burn you, you're left with the tingling sensation for the rest of the day. "What about you and papa?"

Her mother shook her head and giving Mikasa one soft push inside, shut the door behind her. That was the last Mikasa saw of her parents.

"Where's the kid?" A man's voice echoed from outside the door. Mikasa stuffed her fist into her mouth, trying to keep her breaths calm and steady. She remembered the time her father had taken her hunting, how he'd instructed her on how to stay as quiet as possible to not scare away the prey. Mikasa wondered if this was what it felt like to be a deer, cornered by hunters and knowing that there was little chance of escaping.

"She's gotta be around here somewhere," said another. "There's no way she could've gotten that far." Footsteps sounded on the wood floor, coming closer and closer until Mikasa heard the click of the door. The man was right outside the closet.

"Please," she whispered, hoping that somebody would save her. "Leave me alone." Her nails dug into her palm, burning deep scratches into the skin.

The man flung the closet door open. He smiled at her. "Look what we've got here."

Mikasa shrank away from the man's gaze, trying to make herself as tiny as possible. The man reached forward, dragging Mikasa out by the scruff of her neck. "The woman had a daughter."

Had? Mikasa craned her neck, wondering where her parents were. Instantly, she wished she hadn't. Her father lay face down near the door in a pool of rapidly spreading blood. Her mother was just off to the side, crumpled as if hit over the head with her hands covering her stomach. Mikasa went limp, the fight immediately going out of her. "Mama…? Papa…?"

The man dropped her. Mikasa slumped to the ground. "Should we take this one, instead?"

The other shrugged. "She's an Asian, isn't she? At least half of one. That'll do."

"Boss won't be pleased."

"I don't care what the boss thinks."

Mikasa heard their words, but failed to register anything. She was numb. One of the men stuffed a wadded up cloth into her mouth. She struggled at first, but his hold was too strong and eventually, her vision grew dark.

When Mikasa awoke, the first thing she noticed was the twine of rope tied around her wrists and ankles. The next thing she noticed was a figure sitting in a chair by the door to the plain wooden room she was in. Upon realizing that she was awake, the man sighed. "Don't bother screaming. Nobody here is going to hear you."

Mikasa looked down at her bonds and back up to the man. "What's going to happen to me?"

The man blinked, surprised. "You're awfully calm about this." She stared at him with eyes like obsidian. The man nearly recoiled from her icy gaze. There was hardly any expression, as if the girl had chosen to block off all emotions. "You're going to get handed off to other people," he told her. "I don't know what's going to happen to you after that."

The girl inclined her head, regarding the ropes wound around her wrists with curiosity.

A knock sounded at the door. The man grumbled and stood up. "Didn't I tell you—what the hell?" A boy stood outside, wringing the bottom of his shirt between his hands. "What do you want?"

"I think I lost my parents," he said pitifully. "Can you please help me?"

"Well, I can tell you that they're not here," said the man. He began to shut the door when the timbre of the boy's voice dropped.

"I asked you to help me," the boy said coldly, thrusting outwards with his hands. Judging by the look of surprise on his face, the man hadn't expected the knife. Still, he slumped to the ground all the same. The boy yanked the knife out, grimacing, and turned to the only other occupant of the room. "Are you okay?"

Mikasa, who'd been watching the entire exchange with dull eyes, nodded vaguely. "Did you find your parents?" She asked, her voice raspy from lack of use.

The boy kneeled down, sliding the blade of the knife under the ropes. He accidentally brushed past Mikasa's skin somewhat indelicately, opening up a small cut. "Sorry."

She barely responded.

The boy looked at her with strange eyes, but continued cutting until the ropes that had previously kept her limbs immobile, were sawed through. "We have to get out of here."

Mikasa massaged her wrists. "Where are we going to go?"

A new voice sounded. "Nowhere." The boy was suddenly lifted up by another man who'd, unbeknownst to Mikasa or the boy, entered the room. The boy began to choke, trying to gulp down breaths, but the man's grip was too strong.

The boy waved his hand at Mikasa. "Fight!" He wheezed. "Fight!"

Mikasa saw the knife the boy had dropped. It lay on the ground innocently, the blood staining the blade faded to a dark rusty colour. Reaching toward it, she picked it up by its handle and aimed it at the intruder. Her hands shook, betraying the look of cool confidence on her face.

"You have to fight!" The boy choked out, clawing at the man's hands.

_Fight?_ The word echoed in Mikasa's mind. Looking at the scene in front of her, a boy just a few years older, slowly getting the life drained out of him, she felt something deep within her shift. This wasn't something she was entirely unfamiliar with. Images of her father after a hunt, dead bodies of animals dangling from his arm and hanging in the smokehouse, drifted through her mind's eye. The one time she'd witnessed wild dogs hunting rabbits, sinking their long canines into the soft necks of their prey. This was survival. _I must fight_. Steeling herself, Mikasa's fingers tightened around the grip of the knife so much so the wood handle cracked. Shifting her weight to her back foot, she took off in a burst of speed, aiming for the man. _I must fight_.

When the blade sank into his back, the man dropped the boy out of pure surprise and wheeled around on Mikasa. "You little brat," he growled, reaching his meaty hands out towards her. Mikasa, still strung on pure adrenaline, darted out of his way. The man lunged after her, managing to grab her by the hair. She yelped and taking a page from the boy's book, sank her nails into the calloused hand.

Then, the grip loosened and with a dull _thud_, the man fell forwards. Mikasa looked up and saw a girl pulling the very knife she'd dropped earlier out of the assailant's neck. "Are you okay?" She asked.

Finally, Mikasa's face crumpled and she began to cry. "My parents…my home…" Snatches of phrases and words punctuated her sobs.

"You can come live with us."

Mikasa lifted her head at the voice. The girl bent down and handed Mikasa a handkerchief to wipe the tears from her face.

"You can live with us if you'd like," repeated the girl. "It's just me and my brother." She pushed one of the bodies out of the way, letting Mikasa and the boy exit first.

"It's a small house," said the boy. "A really small house."

"Levi," the girl chastised. Then, she turned to Mikasa. "What do you say?" Mikasa nodded silently. Taking the older girl's outstretched hand, she followed her to their horses. "We usually hunt around this area," she explained. "I was just getting ready to go back when Levi saw the light from the window."

Mikasa looked down at their feet, watching the indents their shoes made in the soft soil. "It's very cold," she said, curling her hand into a fist around the cloth of her dress. She felt a warm hand slip into her own. Looking over to her side, she saw Levi walking alongside her, but staring pointedly in the other direction.

"Don't get lost," he said brusquely.

The girl took Mikasa's other hand in her own. "You can come home with us," she promised. The smile on her face was at odds with her harsh features, but it lit them up all the same. "My name is Reya."

"Mikasa." She said quietly. She looked over at the boy.

"I'm Levi," he said. "Reya is my older sister."

Mikasa smiled at him. "Thank you," she said.

Levi's face grew red, the tips of his ears tinged with the colour. "I should be thanking you," he muttered. "You saved me."

"You saved me, too. I guess that makes us even. And you too," said Mikasa to Reya. "Thank you."

Reya brushed her hand through Mikasa's hair affectionately. "You're going to be okay. Don't worry. We'll take care of you."

* * *

Leave me a review and let me know what you think! Input is greatly appreciated, as I'm still parsing out future chapters.


	2. Home

**Alterations**

**SUMMARY: **Are you willing to abandon your humanity to save the thousands who will only curse your name? Can you truly become a monster for the sake of the ones you care about? Because once you've been chosen to carry the burden of your people, there is no other alternative. AU where, under very different circumstances, Levi saves Mikasa from the traffickers. Shifter!Mikasa.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **You read that right. This is a Shifter!Mikasa fic. Although, it may be a little different from what you expect. I won't give anything other than that away for now.

This chapter and the next one will span Mikasa's childhood and everything after that will be spent with her as part of the military. A lot of these events are going to be canon-compliant, and since I don't really want to have to describe everything in detail (and I doubt any of you will want to read through all of that), I will probably just gloss over it more for the sake of context than anything else.

Another side note: this Levi is only about five years older than Mikasa, so he'll be around 14-15 now. Reya is 19-20.

* * *

The next two years of Mikasa's life were arguably the most trying. Her new home—a tiny house located in the poorest part of the Tontegora district just within Wall Maria—was nothing like the place she'd grown up in. Her new family wasn't wealthy by any means, she knew that. And yet, in spite of her poor living conditions, the leaky roof, short candles burned down to the last nub, ratty blankets that always left her shivering in the dead of night, Mikasa was happy.

"Can you teach me that?" She asked Reya one day, transfixed by the older girl's ability to use her knife to defend herself after a near-mugging in the darker areas of Tontegora. "I want to learn self-defence, too."

The girl chuckled, slipping the knife back into its sheath. "One day," she promised her. Mikasa held her to that promise and on the eve of her tenth birthday, was presented with a knife of her very own.

"Thank you, Levi." Mikasa had said to the boy shyly. Reya frowned at her brother, disapproval clear in her eyes. It had taken a substantial amount of persuasion on Levi's part for her to agree to teach Mikasa. But, she did. And Mikasa excelled at it. Whether it was from natural talent or pure determination, Reya couldn't discern. Mikasa was brilliant. She dodged every blow with ease, parried every strike with a powerful one of her own, and could instinctively predict where Reya or Levi would strike next.

"You're getting good at this," admitted Levi, handing Mikasa the jug of water after he'd taken a draught. Normally, he was adverse to the idea of sharing drinks with a girl—let alone from the same jug!—but his sister had ingrained in him how to be a gentleman.

Mikasa nodded solemnly. "I need to get as good as I can," she said without a hint of joviality. "You protected me last time. This time, I want to be the one to protect you."

Levi, who'd been wiping at his forehead with a rag, paused. "You want to protect me? Why?" It was an innocent question, which made it all the more difficult to answer.

Mikasa shifted from toe to toe uncomfortably. Turning her gaze to the alleyway across the street, she kept her eyes locked on the stragglers roaming the narrow path. "I want to protect everyone I love."

Fourteen year old Levi, who'd never so much as talked to a girl before, let alone hear her admit that she loved him, was a bit of a shock. Jumping nearly three feet in the air, he stumbled back, knocking his head against the side of their house. He slid to the ground, groaning.

"Are you okay?" She asked him, eyes wide and curious. "Do you want to take a break?"

Levi shook his head. A flash of black across the street caught his eye. "We should go back inside," he said. His voice, usually peppered with varying tones that were indicative of a boy his age, had suddenly become low and serious. "Mikasa," he said, addressing her by her first name, "we need to go back inside, _now._"

Mikasa tried to peek over Levi's shoulder, but he thrust out a hand to stop her. Taking her by the arm, he all but dragged her back inside the house. "What's going on?" She asked desperately. "Is something the matter?"

"Reya," Levi ignored Mikasa's inquiries. "They're here."

Reya peered out the window above the sink and nodded. "Take Mikasa with you to the bedroom and lock the door. Only come out when I knock three times, okay?"

"I can stay here with you," said Levi.

"I'll be fine on my own," insisted Reya. "If they see you, they'll get suspicious and wonder why I'm letting a kid participate in the dealings."

"I'm not a kid!"

"Levi."

"Fine. Come on." He took Mikasa's arm again, this time gentler, his fingers lightly curling around the limb.

"What's going on?" Mikasa asked for what felt like the thousandth time. "You still haven't told me what's going on."

"Not now," snapped Reya, but immediately looked apologetic afterwards. "Levi will tell you later. Just go into the room and don't come out until I say it's safe. Don't make any loud noises either."

Before Mikasa could properly protest, Levi led her to the shared bedroom, latching the door shut behind them. "It's okay if they see me," he told her quietly, "but they don't know about you yet and we don't want to take that chance." He peeked through a hole on the wood. Mikasa tried to elbow him out of the way so she could take a look as well, but Levi wouldn't budge. Finally, he pulled her down by the shoulder. "Don't tell Reya."

Mikasa nodded solemnly and put her eye to the hole. Outside, several burly men were locked in a heated conversation with Reya. They were frowning and Reya was shaking her head, repeatedly pointing to several glass bottles on the table in front of them. One of them heaped a cloth bag on the table with a clink that was oddly reminiscent of the times that Mikasa would accompany her parents to the market.

The transaction went on for several more minutes, Reya and the men arguing back and forth in low voices until they'd reached an agreement. The men took the bottles and Reya the clinking sack. After they finally left, she latched the door behind them and made for the bedroom.

"You can come out, now."

"What was that?" Mikasa asked, once assured that it was safe to talk.

Reya sighed and looked over at her brother, who shrugged. "Everyone," she started off, "has their own way of surviving. Ours just isn't a very safe one."

"Safe?"

"You saw those men," said Levi, his eyes dark. "If you got them mad enough, they'd kill you. They wouldn't even care that you're just a kid." He turned his head to the side, still fuming. "Next time, I'll deal with them. You get the supplies and I'll cover the deal."

Reya shook her head and handed Levi a list. "That's not happening. Here, take Mikasa with you down to the marketplace. Show her around. Make sure you teach her _everything_."

Levi scowled, but took the list from his sister and turned to Mikasa, whose eyes were bright and excited.

"Don't get too worked up over it," he grumbled. "It's dirty work."

And dirty work it was. Mikasa hadn't realized it at the time, but Reya and Levi were nothing more than merchants dealing in illegal goods, mainly drugs. They belonged to an organization far larger than them. Levi would go to the 'market', an underground system where he would hand off the money to another messenger, who in turn, would supply the boy with a week's worth of goods to be sold. It was, Levi articulated, a stupid system that was only in place to protect the higher-ups.

Initially, Mikasa had felt unsure about all of this, but quickly grew accustomed to the sleepless nights—spent in fear of an angry client—and mad dashes through alleyways to avoid the police, who seemed keen on sniffing them out. Levi laughed at this observation and told her that they were just as bad.

"They just want the money," he'd said. "If they catch us, we get locked up and they can take everything we have and blame it on people just like us. We never win."

A year passed. Mikasa grew nearly three inches during that time, but was still shorter than Levi, who took every opportunity to point it out. She also grew tougher and soon, her skills outstripped that of nearly every kid in the district, save for Levi whom everyone knew better than to challenge anyways.

She should've known, really. This life, these people were all too good to be true. Mikasa should've anticipated that there would have been some price to pay for murdering that man. She just never knew it would be so expensive.

Tontegora was a rough district. In every alleyway huddled a dangerous vagrant, fully capable of dismembering another human being. Even the police, few as they were, had a corrupt gleam in their eye and many were active participants in the drug trade.

"Stay close to me," Levi said. Mikasa inched closer to the boy, pinching the sleeve of his shirt. "Don't stare at anyone."

"I know," she said irritably, aware of the dangers that awaited them each time they stepped outdoors. "I'm not stupid." Even so, she felt the unwelcome eyes of several people on her, had felt their gaze since she first stepped into the area.

"You're not," he agreed, "but they are." He took Mikasa by the hand, weaving in between tightly pressed crowds of people.

"How much?"

Levi wheeled around, looking for the source of the voice. Beside him, Mikasa tightened her grip as her free hand strayed toward the knife kept at her waist.

"How much?" The voice repeated. A figure walked toward them and Levi sighed, relieved that it was only a man in a brown coat with shiny brass buttons. "For the girl." He gestured to Mikasa. "How much you sellin' for?"

"She's not for sale," said Levi, edging his body in front of Mikasa's.

"Greedy little bugger, ain't ya?" The man laughed heartily. "I don't blame ya, not in the slightest. Things like her," he jutted his chin toward Mikasa—who shuddered with revulsion, "are a rare thing. None too many of them around no more."

"She's a human being," said Levi. "She's not for sale."

"You're acting like you're better than me," the man said, stubbing out the butt of his cigarette using his shoe. "I don't like that." His voice lowered to a growl.

"I don't like you," countered Levi. "Old geezer."

The man laughed, clutching his large belly. "You're just as bad as me. No, you're worse," he spat. "Little boy acting like he's some bigshot thug running errands for mommy, ain't ya?"

Levi lunged, but Mikasa's iron grip held him back. "Don't," she said, her glare steely. "He's not worth it."

"Not like your boyfriend is either, missy. Why don't you come with me?"

As the man lumbered forward, Mikasa withdrew her knife, positioning it toward him. "I will hurt you if you come near me," she said.

The man stopped, holding his hands up. "Fine," he said, backing away. "I really didn't want to have to use force, but I guess I got no choice."

Another person appeared behind Levi and grabbed him from underneath his arms. Mikasa saw the man coming and without thinking twice, drove her knife into his side. He dropped Levi and the boy grabbed Mikasa by the arm. "Go! I'll catch up with you later," he said, eyes frantic as he withdrew his own weapon.

Mikasa shook her head resolutely. "No way. We're family, now. Family sticks together."

Levi watched more people step from the shadows, obviously agents of this slave trader. "I was sort of hoping you'd say that."

When they returned to the house, Mikasa found herself wincing as she walked, the squelching noise in her shoes unpleasant to the touch. Beside her, Levi wiped his face with his sleeve, every part of him drenched in red, save for his spotless face.

"Levi, Mikasa!" Reya swooped down on the two, wet cloths in her hands. Bending to Mikasa's level, she gently wiped the blood from her face. "What happened?" She asked.

"Someone tried to take Mikasa," said Levi, taking the other rag from Reya's hands. "We stopped them."

"By killing them…?" Reya's voice trailed off as she looked at her brother with fearful eyes. "Levi."

"We had no other choice," he said, deadpan. "If I didn't do anything, she would have been taken away. Reya, they were traffickers. It was a clean cut. We got all of them."

"Levi." She grabbed him by his shoulders, her own shaking. "A lot of those traffickers are very well-known. They have _connections. _Please don't tell me you killed all of them."

Slowly, Levi nodded.

Reya hunched her shoulders, head drooped down. "They're going to find us," she whispered fearfully.

"I'll fight them off," said Mikasa, who'd been silent the whole time. "I'll make sure we're safe. Don't worry, Reya."

"Mikasa, you can't fight forever. You have to know when to give up."

Mikasa disagreed with her, but chose not to voice it.

"We'll be fine, Reya," consoled Levi. "They won't find us and we can pretend it never happened, even if they do."

Levi had never been so wrong in his life. Shortly after, members of the Garrison appeared and took Levi into custody. They would have taken Mikasa too, had Levi not put up a fight and insisted that it was solely his doing.

The trial was a disaster. Mikasa suspected that the witnesses had been either paid for, or were also part of the trafficking organization, their leering grins making her insides roil. Eventually, they settled on a verdict. Either Levi was to be put in prison, or serve as part of the Scouting Legion, a faction of the military with the highest fatality rate. Levi, never one to be cooped up, chose the latter.

Reya cried for a week after that.

In the months following, Mikasa felt a tremendous shift in her family. Without Levi, things were different. She missed him immensely, to the point where she had difficulty getting up in the mornings.

_Levi's gone_, she'd often think to herself in the cavernous silence that accompanied each meal with Reya, whose dead eyes were all too familiar to Mikasa. _Levi's gone and I'm never going to see him again._

"Don't go back," Reya told her one day. "To that marketplace." She had gotten thinner and thinner with each passing day, the shadows under her eyes a stark contrast to her bone-white skin. "They might recognize you."

"How are we going to survive?" Asked Mikasa. "You've stopped working and now I can't even go out?"

"They never forgive," said Reya. "And they never forget."

And as much as Mikasa hated them, she thought those were good words to live by.

By this point, there was no way that Mikasa's life could get any worse. And yet, it did.

* * *

Mikasa rounded the corner, her heart beating in her ears and her breaths rapid. The door was open; its latch lay in pieces on the ground. She felt bile crawling up her throat and nervous anticipation claw at her insides. She _knew _it was a bad idea to go back to the marketplace. How many times had Reya reminded her of the corruption that ran rampant in the district? How many times had she herself witnessed people being murdered in the streets without anyone running to their aid?

"No," she whispered to herself. Pushing forward, ignoring her screaming muscles that told her to stop and rest, she ran into the house and prepared herself for the worse.

Inside, it looked as if a struggle had taken place. Dishes were knocked over, porcelain shards crunched underfoot as she gingerly walked through the kitchen. Then, she heard it. Lying, half concealed by the table, was a foot. As she walked around the length of the piece of furniture, a body came into view. It was a man with nondescript features. Dark hair and dark eyes, just like most of the people Mikasa encountered on a day to day basis. The only difference was that this man was dead, sporting a deep gash on the side of his neck. The blood had begun to pool on the floor, seeping into crevices and gathering in the dips of the wood.

Mikasa wrinkled her nose, but examined the body for a weapon anyways, unsure whether or not the person who'd committed the deed was still in the house. As she turned the body over with her foot, she caught a glimpse of the man's jacket. Emblazed on the back was a sigil that she was very familiar with: a green unicorn sporting a flowing white mane. He was from the Military Police.

"Reya?" Mikasa whispered. She opened the bedroom door with the tip of her foot and was immediately horrified by what she saw. Reya lay crumpled on the ground by the bed, surrounded by shards of broken glass. "Reya!" Mikasa bent down, ghosting her hands over the body, completely unsure of what to do.

Reya rolled over, but only just slightly. Her eyes were half-closed and her breathing was shallow. "Mi…kas…?"

"Don't talk," Mikasa cradled her head on her lap. "I'll find you some help. You'll be fine." This scene—someone she cared about deeply harbouring fatal wounds—felt eerily familiar to her. "It's going to be okay."

"No," said Reya, her voice sharp despite the bloody mess that was the front of her chest. Mikasa stared down at the wounds, but Reya shook her head. "I'm beyond help, now." Her voice had turned back to a whisper.

"I'll get help," insisted Mikasa.

Reya softly took the hand that Mikasa had put on her shoulder and squeezed it weakly. "They're going to come back," she breathed.

"They?" But, Mikasa knew who she was talking about. Even though it was months ago, grudges ran deep. It wasn't karma at work here, but the desire for equivalency. It was a 'you kill one of my men; I kill one of yours' type of thing.

Reya nodded, clearly slipping between coherency and confusion. "You have to go. Don't stay here."

"I can't leave you." Mikasa squared her shoulders. This wouldn't be like last time, she promised. Last time, she'd listened and ran and lost _everything_. She refused to make that mistake again. She was a little older, a little more scarred, and a little wiser now.

"You have to, Mikasa." Reya said angrily. "They will come back and they will kill you."

"They won't. I'm stronger than them."

"I know you are," said Reya. "But even if you win this battle, what about the next one? And the one after that? Are you going to be fighting all your life?"

"If it's to protect the ones I love, then yes." At the time, Mikasa hardly registered the finality of such a statement. But, what's been said has been said and no amount of pouring over words unspoken or uttered would alter the path her life beginning to be set on.

"Don't fight this," said Reya. "Stay alive. Protect Levi, please."

"Levi…" Mikasa looked lost, remembering the boy who'd taught her nearly everything she knew about fighting.

Reya reached down and yanked something that hung around her neck. She handed it to Mikasa, who didn't even bother admire the fine gold chain or locket that hung off the end. "Take this to the Yeagers in Shiganshina. You remember them, don't you?"

Mikasa nodded, vaguely recalling an afternoon spent with one of Reya's clients and his son. The boy had vivid green eyes, she remembered. And he was a bit of an idiot, if she was to be entirely truthful. "I do."

"Give that to Grisha. He'll know what it means." Reya's breaths grew laboured, the wound taking its toll. "You'll live with them. Stay safe. Do not avenge me."

"Please don't," begged Mikasa, even though she knew Reya would have her way.

"Before you go, burn down the house. There must be nothing left of us. They must think we all died. That is the only way you can live normally." Reya looked at Mikasa with incredibly clear eyes. "You _must _do this, Mikasa. Get rid of your fears. This is not just for you."

Mikasa nodded wordlessly, feeling a creeping numbness in her bones.

Reya's eye softened. "Good. Now, go. Set fire to this place. I've always wanted to go out with a bang."

With one last look, Mikasa lit a lamp on the furthest end of the kitchen table and knocked it over onto the curtains. The glass shattered, fire creeping alongside the edge of the cloth and wood. Soon, the room was engulfed in flames and Mikasa was forced to leave, her face buried in her sleeve.

She didn't turn back, preferring to keep the memories of that house and its inhabitants untouched by flames.

* * *

It took Mikasa a while, navigating from Tontegora to Shiganshina, but she eventually made her way in. Asking around, people were more than willing to point her in the direction of the Yeagers', swayed by her bright, curious eyes.

As she approached the house, she felt the grooves of the locket's chain dig into her hand. She used her free hand to knock, hoping that this was the right place. Eren answered the door and Mikasa could hear the voice of his mother, chastising him for not bothering to ask who it was.

"Hi," he said, eyeing Mikasa. "I know you, but I don't remember your name."

"I'm Mikasa. Is your dad around?"

Grisha Yeager, who'd heard his name being called from the kitchen table, appeared in the doorway. "Can I help you?"

Wordlessly, she handed him the locket. Grisha took it, brows furrowed. He opened the necklace and nodded a few times, humming to himself. Finally, he let Mikasa in. "Welcome, Mikasa Ackerman. I suppose you'll be staying with us, then."

"Staying with us?" Eren asked.

Grisha nodded. "Treat her as you would a sibling."

Eren looked from his father to Mikasa. "Are you going to be part of my family or something?"

At those words, at the very mention of family, Mikasa broke down. The stress—from seeing Levi taken away from her, witnessing Reya's final moments, watching her home go up in flames—had finally caught up with her. She felt empty and cold and more than anything, she wanted her mother.

Something warm wrapped around her neck. Months of training caused her to instinctively flinch, but the perpetrator was only Eren, who had begun swathing Mikasa in a large red scarf. "Are you cold?" He asked. "You were shivering."

Mikasa watched him without saying a word.

"You don't have to worry now," he continued. "Are you feeling better?" He threw the last bit of the woollen scarf around her shoulder.

"I am," she said, voice muffled by the cloth. "I feel a lot warmer."

* * *

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	3. Nightmares

**Alterations**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed, favourited, or just read. Your support is greatly appreciated!

So, for the next couple of chapters, I'm going to quickly gloss over canon events in the manga/anime. Everything after Chapter 5, I believe, is going to be a huge divergence from the plot, but I do want to give some context. Apologies for the fillers.

* * *

Whenever Mikasa went to bed at night, she dreamt the same thing. There was a woman clad in white, beckoning to her. She looked like Carla Yeager, long hair draped over one shoulder, but when she smiled, Mikasa saw a bit of Reya in the way the corners of her eyes crinkled.

"_Protect Eren for me, won't you?_" She spoke with the voice of Mikasa's own mother, the noise both familiar and foreign to her all at the same time. She smiled, thin lipped and tight, as blood began to drip from the sides of her mouth.

Mikasa would then reach out toward the mysterious woman, but she would start coughing and flecks of blood would dot the pristine white floor.

_"How could you do this to me?" _The woman sounded horrified and desperate, clutching at her stomach where red blossomed onto the dark cloth. _"Mikasa…"_

Mikasa opened her mouth to scream for help, but her throat was dry and no sound could escape her lips. She couldn't even turn away from the sight in front of her; all she could do was watch as blood slowly drained out of the woman until nothing was left but a dark cloak on the ground.

And when Mikasa looked down at her own hands, they were always, _always _covered in blood.

She woke with a start. Though the nights were cold—a damp sort of cold that would seep into your bones regardless of how many layers you wore—she was covered in sweat. Frantically, she edged toward the window, glancing down at her hands, and when she realized that they were clean, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"What's going on?" Christa's quiet whisper jolted Mikasa out of her reverie.

"Nothing," the taller girl responded. "I just woke up to go to the washroom."

"Oh," Christa nodded, "I'll come with you."

"No need. I'll be quick."

Christa climbed out of her bed, wrapping herself entirely in the blanket. "Then, it should be no problem if I come with you. What if I need to go to the washroom?" Mikasa didn't answer, but her lack of reply told Christa that she wouldn't exactly refuse her company.

"Careful." Mikasa held the door open for the shorter girl to walk through. "It's dark." As the words passed through her lips, a tremor of pain shot up her right arm and caused her to flinch ever so slightly. Grimacing, she clenched her hand into a fist and ignored the strange buzzing of the limb.

"Are you okay?" Christa whispered as the two navigated the sparsely wooded area behind the cabins. "You looked really out of it during training today." She was referring to the numerous hits she had managed to land on the other girl, a feat normally impossible for anyone, save possibly Annie.

"I'm fine," replied Mikasa. Locating the washroom, she walked over to it and gingerly pushed the door open with her aching hand. "Do you mind if I go first?"

Christa shook her head.

Mikasa pushed the door open further, but as she did so, a splinter embedded itself in the palm of her hand and she ripped her hand off the wood as if it had been burned.

"Mikasa?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she repeated like a mantra. "I'll just be a second." She closed in the door in Christa's worried face and then turned to look at her own in the dirty mirror. Dark circles had gathered under her eyes and she looked far paler than normal. "I have no idea what Jean sees in me," she whispered to herself, remembering the weird boy who'd, on more than one occasion, shouted out his affections for her in the crowded mess hall only to be laughed at.

Looking down at her right arm, she lifted it up to the light, palm upwards. There was nothing odd with the appendage. The only thing that could be interpreted as out of place was the carved symbol, though that was something Mikasa had lived with since she was young.

There was a drop of blood, however, oozing from the center of the crest. It grew larger and larger until it became a droplet, which cascaded down Mikasa's pale arm and dripped onto the floor.

"Shoot," she whispered, searching for anything to mop up the mess with. However, the blood continued to pour out. Her hand was burning, growing hotter by the second and Mikasa could feel her entire body start to heat up.

Breathing in, she tried to calm herself, but the slow trickle of blood from her hand from the ground only made it worse. Looking up, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror and the face staring back made her heart thud painfully. It was only for a brief second, but Mikasa thought she saw her mother smiling back at her. Then, the face morphed into something completely different. The darkness prevented Mikasa from completely making out its features, but she could tell that it wasn't human. Stone-like patches grew on its shoulders and neck, fanning out as it got closer to its chin. She stared closer and something caused her to reach forward to the touch the glass.

The creature in the reflection did the same.

Mikasa shrank back immediately, but not before driving her fist through it. Sinking down to the ground, she cradled her bloody hand and thudded her head against the wood, trying to drive out the image of that terrifying face. Ruby-red blood dripped from her right palm and Mikasa felt like she was drowning in the liquid.

"Mikasa!" The door opened and moonlight poured inside.

"Don't come in!" Mikasa said raggedly. "Don't come in."

She felt herself being lifted up with rough hands. They examined her fist and brushed away the tiny shards of glass. "What were you thinking?" Jean Kirschtein asked angrily, not sounding at all like he normally did whenever he spoke to her.

Christa hovered around Mikasa's other side, kicking the larger pieces away from her feet. "Mikasa, I heard you screaming and was going to go in, but Jean came out here too. Mikasa?"

Mikasa let her head loll on Jean's shoulder for a moment, but remembered the blood. "How am I going to explain the blood?"

"We'll bandage you up," said Jean, blushing furiously at the contact. "It's not too deep of a wound."

Mikasa shook her head. "The blood on the floor. How am I going to explain that?"

"Mikasa," said Christa worriedly, "there is no blood on the floor. What are you talking about?"

The girl in question shook her head. "I was bleeding from my right hand. There was a puddle of blood in here."

The other two looked down at Mikasa's right hand, which as always, was wrapped in a white bandage—though the patches of red was the only difference from her normal appearance. However, Mikasa herself hardly seemed aware of it, her eyes scanning the floor for the aforementioned puddle of blood while she pointedly avoided glancing at the reflective mirror shards dotting the ground.

"You must have been dreaming," said Christa finally. "You probably slipped or something."

Mikasa could hardly hear Christa's words, slipping lower and lower down. "Hey!" Jean hesitated slightly before wrapping a hand around her waist and pulling her up. "We have to get her to the infirmary."

"At this time of the night?"

"We'll say she couldn't see and fell or something."

"It's Mikasa. Nobody is going to believe us."

Mikasa registered that people were talking around her, but the words failed to compute in her head. Her right arm, though still feeling as though there was an inferno blazing within, had cooled down somewhat, as had the rest of her body. Against her will, her eyes began to droop shut and as blank-looking faces above her crowded her view of the night sky, she could only think of one thing.

_What was that face in the mirror?_

* * *

Though Mikasa's dreams were always the same, she never saw that face again and eventually, it slipped from her mind. Her mind was completely occupied with training and as her body grew stronger, the memory that night faded until she'd pushed it out of her mind completely.

Time went and passed. Training eventually came to an end and Mikasa graduated at the top of her class. She hoped that Eren would have a sudden change of heart and decide to join the Military Police, but she knew that he was far too intent on becoming a part of the Scouting Legion. Mikasa had resigned herself to it and knew that the only way to keep him safe would not be to prevent him from achieving his dream, but to accompany him and see to it that he did so in the safest way possible.

"You graduated top of the class," Eren said to her, smiling genuinely. "I knew you could do it."

Mikasa absentmindedly smiled; despite the warmth that was rapidly spreading throughout her chest, this wasn't the first congratulations she had to put up with and the attention began to sap away at her. "We should go to bed soon."

Eren raised a brow, eyes darting around the party-like atmosphere around them, an event suggested by Sasha and Connie who seemed the most relieved to relax for those few precious hours before the dawn.

"Tomorrow, they want us to patrol the wall," she reiterated what Shadis had drilled into them earlier that night. "Clean the cannons and such. You'll need a good night's sleep."

"Are you going to bed now?"

Mikasa nodded. "Soon."

Eren sighed. "I'll go," he promised, finally conceding and surprising Mikasa with his complacence. "Just give me a few minutes. You don't have to wait up if you're too tired."

Mikasa left the mess hall first, walking the short path to their cabins.

"You left early?" A voice came from the trees. The figure stepped into the dim lighting surrounding the wooden structures, pulling the collar of their white hoodie up to stave off the bitter chill. "Thought you would've stayed longer."

"I'm tired," Mikasa replied, not feeling in the mood to converse with anyone, let alone Annie Leonhardt. "We have a long day tomorrow. I'm going to bed."

Annie nodded absentmindedly. "Are you okay?" She asked in a rare show of concern, though her expression gave nothing away. "You're looking pale."

Mikasa pressed to her forehead. She was burning up again.

She hadn't told anyone, not even Eren or Armin, but from time to time, she experienced that strange wave of heat coursing through her body, especially concentrated in her right arm. Fortunately, it wasn't painful, but it was uncomfortable and at times, she would feel nauseous. This was looking like it was one of those times.

"I just need to go to the washroom," said Mikasa. "I'll be fine. See you tomorrow."

Annie nodded again and let Mikasa walk away, not bothering to follow. For once, Mikasa was grateful for the other girl's utter lack of interest in anybody's personal life. Grasping for the tiny trees that grew in patches along the walkway, Mikasa managed to get herself to the front door of their cabin. The inside was completely dark; she was the first one back. Making her way to her bed, she lay down without even bothering to change. The kind of exhaustion she felt was deeply rooted, as if it was housed in her bones and refused to dissipate no matter how much rest she got.

"I'll protect Eren," she whispered to the chill night air, wisps of it blowing into the room through miniscule slats in the wood. "I promise."

She said this every night; a mantra she recited to whatever deity was listening, in the hopes that her nightmares wouldn't plague her. But, even before she'd fully closed her eyes, the image of that woman materialized in her mind's eye, burned onto the inside of her eyelids like the afterimages from looking into the sun for too long.

_"Protect Eren for me, won't you?"_

And even though her nightmares prevented Mikasa from truly getting the rest she deserved, this would be the last peaceful night she would ever sleep through.

* * *

The next morning was a flurry of activity with everyone getting ready for their various duties on the wall. Mikasa knew Eren was excited, his joyous attitude stemming from their graduation, and eventual commencement into the Scouting Legion.

Everything was going fine. It was going great. Mikasa would be able to protect him, as long as she stayed by his side. Nothing would go wrong.

And then, after an uninterrupted five years of relative peace, the Colossal Titan reappeared and took with it a section of Wall Rose.


	4. Battle of Trost

**Alterations**

**SUMMARY: **Are you willing to abandon your humanity to save the thousands who will only curse your name? Can you truly become a monster for the sake of the ones you care about? Because once you've been chosen to carry the burden of your people, there is no other alternative. AU where, under very different circumstances, Levi saves Mikasa from the traffickers. Shifter!Mikasa.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **It's been a while. The pacing of this chapter is fairly quick, but as it follows along with canon events almost exactly, I didn't really feel the need to explain everything in detail. I've been told that my pacing can sometimes be too fast, so I'm trying to work on that. However, I promise the next chapters won't be so "fast", as that's when all the action is happening. Not that there isn't any action in this chapter. Or something.

Anyways, please enjoy and reviews are always greatly appreciated!

* * *

"Mikasa Ackerman?"

Mikasa turned to the man who'd called her name. "Yes?"

"I'm Ian Dietrich," he said. "Part of the Stationary Guard. I've been asked to reassign you to the rear guard." His shaggy blond hair hung in his eyes, a grim expression taking over his long face. "Immediately."

Mikasa turned to Eren helplessly. "But, only the elites are assigned to the rear guard."

Dietrich nodded. "These orders come from higher-up. I'm only supposed to be in charge of you for the time being."

"Mikasa," said Eren. "Go."

"Eren," said Mikasa. "But, what about you?"

"I'll be fine," he insisted. "Go Mikasa."

She sighed heavily, exhaustion already wearing her down. "Would it be possible for him to come with me?" She asked Dietrich.

The man shook his head. "I've received orders to bring only you. And these are orders, Ackerman. I understand the desire to stay with your comrades, but I assure you that this would be the most efficient method of protecting them."

Though the man's logic was sound, Mikasa wasn't swayed in the slightest. "Fine," she agreed, "I'll be there with you in a second." The man nodded to her and walked off, allowing her a few more minutes to say goodbye.

"I'll be fine," insisted Eren. "You're being chosen to be part of the elites, Mikasa. This is a good thing. I don't understand why you're being so hesitant, right now. Are you scared or something?" His eyes flashed dangerously, a sign of an oncoming fight that Mikasa had neither the patience nor willpower to deal with.

_No! _Mikasa wanted to shout. She wasn't scared. Titans didn't scare her half as much as humans did, anyhow. At least titans killed humans for the sake of feeding, regardless of whether or not they actually digested them. Humans, on the other hand, had motives. Humans could kill just because they wanted to be cruel and because they _could_. "Be careful," she said to Eren. "Take care of Armin, too."

"I know," said Eren, his expression softening slightly. "We'll be fine. I'll see you later."

Mikasa nodded wordlessly, pulling her scarf over her mouth and breathing in the scent of home, faint as it may be. It was funny, really. Though the scarf reminded her of the Yeagers whose kindness had permitted her survival, it could get stifling and sometimes, she wanted nothing more than to pull it off her neck. "See you later."

She had no way of knowing that this would be the last time she was able to have a truly private moment with Eren. After the Battle of Trost, nothing was the same.

* * *

Mikasa felt nothing. The horror that usually came with knowing of a comrade's death had not hit her yet, and she had no intention of letting it do so. The only thing she could do, would do, was to continue. She had a duty to Armin. She had to ensure his survival, as well as the survival of her peers.

Clutch and release; it was a process. There was a rhythm to the 3DMG, a way of twisting your body to maximize its reach. Mikasa focussed on that, barely acknowledging the massive amount of gas she was consuming, or the worried looks of the people around her.

Then came the jerk.

Her Three-Dimensional Maneuver Gear had finally run out of gas and while she could still launch the hooks into the wall to prevent her from falling, she was unable to launch herself through the sky.

She fell into the awning of a store before hitting the ground, the tarp cushioning her fall. As she lay there, she listened to the whizzing of her peers above her and hoped that they had gotten away from the titans. "Ere…" She forced herself not to say the name, trying to erase the boy's existence from her mind. She knew it was futile. The moment Armin told her of Eren's demise, he was the only thing plaguing her thoughts. She didn't blame Armin, though. It wasn't his fault; it was hers. She should've argued harder, should've stayed by his side.

The slow footsteps that had caused the ground beneath her to rumble, paused. Looking up, Mikasa noticed a titan had peeled off from the pack and was regarding her with the sort of curiosity that a predator would lend its prey. Then, it began to advance. Mikasa reached for her blades, only to realize that they had been broken down to their very last shards and she was still far from the supply depot.

_Is this it? _She thought to herself. Maybe this was punishment for escaping death the last time. Maybe she'd see her mother and father again. This time, she'd apologize to her mother for messing up her embroidery. She'd ask more about their long-extinct clan, the mysterious symbol on the palm of her hand, the forgotten histories. She'd thank her father for taking her on the hunting trips deep inside the woods and the special lake in the middle of the forest where he'd first taught her how to swim.

_This is it._

Mikasa noticed a blur approaching the titan. The figure sprinted across rooftops with near inhuman speed, dodging around chimneys and slow-moving titans. As it approached the titan nearing Mikasa, the figure drew their blades and spun, taking out a chunk of the titan's neck. The giant froze and leaning forward, it toppled to the ground in front of her. The figure landed deftly on the ruined neck, their hood blowing back from their face with the force of the landing.

A plait the colour of ink was tossed over the person's shoulder while their dark eyes regarded the titan apathetically. As they raised upwards, they caught sight of Mikasa and froze, sizing her up.

Mikasa breathed in deeply. "Reya?"

At the sound of her name, her eyes widened and like a frightened deer, she took off. Launching the hooks of her 3DMG into the nearest building, she swung herself upwards and out of sight.

"Mikasa!" Lifting her head, she saw the face of Jean come into view. "What are you doing? Let's go!"

Wearily, she got to her feet, reaching for the uneven bricks of a house nearby to steady herself. Her legs wobbled and she fought to keep herself upright. "I'm fine," she said, waving off Jean's hands. "I can get along fine."

She staggered to her feet, looking as if she'd topple over any moment, but as she'd promised Jean, she didn't. "I'm okay," she promised. "We should get going before any other titans come." But just as she said those words, a deviant type flew through the air and latched its misshapen body onto a nearby tower.

"Shit!" Jean looked over at Mikasa. "Do you have your gear?"

She nodded but as she readied herself to take to the skies, she realized that her blades had been broken down to the very last notch and she was completely out of gas. Jean's gear was damaged as well, a large dent marring its usually shiny surface.

He reached for Mikasa's hand to pull them away from the danger, but just as he did so, another titan entered the vicinity. However, this one was different. Unlike the others, it was leanly muscled and held itself with the stance of a fighter. Instantly, Jean knew that even Mikasa was outmatched, especially since she was lacking the proper materials.

"We have to get out of here."

Mikasa nodded her agreement, but didn't take her eyes off the titans, who immediately launched an attack against the wall-hugging deviant, completely ignoring the two humans. "He's not attacking us," she murmured.

"What?"

"He's not attacking us."

"If we wait around any longer, he will be!"

"Jean," Mikasa addressed the boy," there's something not quite right about that titan. He's not even_ looking _over at us."

"Are we going to just stand around and wait until he does?" Jean didn't wait for Mikasa's response and as he grabbed her by the arm, Mikasa let herself be pulled along. "I have no idea what's going on with that titan," he said, "and I have no intention of getting close enough to find out!"

"I don't think things could possibly get any stranger," she said to the boy, who nodded along with her.

* * *

Every time the boot of Levi's heel sunk into Eren's face, Mikasa twitched. Her face contorted as if she was the one being struck and eventually, her expression must have given away her ill intentions, as Armin held tight to her hand in order to keep her from leaping out.

Levi grabbed Eren by the hair and uttered words that Mikasa couldn't make out, but none of that mattered. He wasn't that far away. It would take her five steps—maybe even four if they were large enough—to reach him and when she did, she would give him a beating he'd remember.

It was funny, really. She hadn't seen the man for years, had missed him almost painfully and now that he was standing right in front of her, she wanted to kick his face in. It was only Armin's surprisingly steely grip that held her at bay, reminding her at once where she was.

After what seemed like hours, Levi finally ceased his assault, gripping Eren by the hair and speaking lowly to the boy. People in the audience shifted uncomfortably, whispers breaking out in pockets and travelling faster than Mikasa could pinpoint their origins.

"What's he saying?" She growled, digging her nails into the polished wood of the railing in front of her. She turned to Armin who could only shrug helplessly. "I need to know what he's saying."

Mikasa hated feeling this way. The rushing noise in her ears drowned out everything else, but she could still hear the thump of Levi's boots against Eren's body and the clacking of teeth hitting the floor. She felt someone squeeze her hand, startling her out of her reverie. Armin's eyes were fixed on the proceedings in front of them, but held her hand in his and squeezed again. _You don't have to do this alone_, he seemed to be telling her. She squeezed back.

When everything ended, Mikasa followed Armin to a tiny room in which Eren was recuperating from his wounds. To her utter horror, Levi was there too, arm thrown carelessly over the top of the very same couch Eren was sitting on.

"Are you okay?" She murmured to her brother. He nodded, pressing the handkerchief offered to him by Armin closer to his nose.

Suddenly, Hanji grabbed Eren by the chin. Mikasa reacted instantly, reaching for Hanji's wrist, but Levi had noticed her movement and swiftly pinned her to the couch, her wrists locked in his grip.

"Let go of me." Mikasa tried to keep her voice from trembling, but to no avail. _I haven't seen you in so long. How are you? I've missed you. Nothing's been the same since you left_. _I just saw your sister and she's supposed to be dead._

Those were the words she wanted to say, what she was supposed to say upon her reunion with Levi, but they died on the tip of her tongue. This Levi wasn't the kind, if slightly brusque boy she'd spent the better part of two years with. This Levi with the tiny scars criss-crossing his hands and empty eyes was a stranger to her, made even more so by the bruises marring Eren's face and body.

"Calm down," he said and then relaxed.

Mikasa rubbed her wrists, ignoring the dark purple marks that had begun to form on the skin. "What are you doing?" She aimed the question at Hanji, who continued peering at Eren curiously.

"He's healed completely ," they said. "His teeth…Levi knocked a few out, but they're all here."

"The brat's a monster," said Levi tonelessly. "That's all there is to it."

The word rang in Mikasa's head. Was that all there was to it? Was it just Eren who was the monster in this case? _I've killed a man when I was a child_. _And I would do it again if it meant Eren could stay safe_. She glanced at Levi out of the corner of her eye, watching the man sip calmly from his teacup as if he hadn't just spent the last hour beating up a child. _I've done it for you._

"Why did you call us here?" Armin finally spoke up, having spent the past few minutes absorbed in his own thoughts. "You probably didn't do this out of the goodness of your own heart."

"You're right," said Levi. He turned to Hanji and they just nodded sadly. "Eren is going to join the Scouting Legion and be under my command as part of my Special Operations Squad." Lowering the cup, he locked eyes with Mikasa who glared back. "And I want you to join."

She blinked, instantly taken aback. "Why me?"

"Mikasa Ackerman. Graduated top of her class and according to several eyewitness reports, possesses the skill of a hundred ordinary soldiers. How could we just let you fade into obscurity?" Hanji lowered the file. They were breathing heavily, their glasses nearly fogged up with excitement.

"I guess you're more beast than human, too."

Mikasa didn't even have to look at the speaker to know who they were.

"Think of this as a chance to watch over your brother. Though, you'll be working with me most of the time. You may be good, Mikasa, but you have to get better."

At the use of his sister's first name, Eren looked over at Levi with vague confusion. The latter silenced him with a glare.

"Our first expedition is going to be in a month."

"Does Mikasa have any say in this?" Armin asked on her behalf. His eyes were lowered, giving off an air of distinct disappointment, but Mikasa sensed his anger. "You can't force her to do this."

"I won't have to," replied Levi. "If I didn't think she was going to accept the offer, I wouldn't have made it." He smirked uncharacteristically and the expression made Mikasa's stomach curdle unpleasantly. It reminded her too much of someone else, of a long braid swinging in the wind and apathetic eyes that could have cared less if Mikasa was nothing more than a corpse in an alley.

"Reya…" The word slipped out before she could stop it and Levi's eyes narrowed.

"What did you say?"

"I'll join." Levi could wait. She didn't need to tell him right away. After all, she had waited years to see him. A few days was nothing.

"Good." Levi picked his cup back up before realizing it was empty.

"Mikasa…" Armin stared between the two siblings, concerned etched on his face. "Will you two be okay?"

"We'll manage," said Eren. "We always have."


End file.
